


Dr. Sam

by amy_star



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9476879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amy_star/pseuds/amy_star
Summary: Written for roque_clasique on livejournal in Aug. 2010.A hunt goes somewhat awry? And this is the aftermath.





	

Dean straddled the old pine chair, taking a healthy swig out of the bottle of Jack Daniels, and purposely ignored the look on his brother's face. He blindly reached behind him and grabbed the pack of smokes with his undamaged arm and glared at Sam.

"You wanna help me with this?"

"With what? Ruining your liver, your lungs, or finally getting to the griffin claw stuck in your back?"

"How about all of the above?" Dean smirked while Sam rolled his eyes but handed Dean a lighter anyway. "Lighten up, Sammy. It could be worse. At least we know it won't get infected. And it's not like you're the one who has to have this thing cut out of you, so I don't see what the issue here is."

"Drinking leads to more bleeding, and the first aid kit is almost out of everything. You know how I feel about smoking in general and in the room in particular. And I don't care about the alleged medicinal properties of griffin claws, you don't know for sure that any of that shit is true."

"Well, it sure as hell made the skin close up around itself fast enough that you had to hack it apart so we could leave, didn't it?"

Sam just sighed and grabbed the scissors. He started cutting Dean's shirt away from his left shoulder blade so he could see the wound. Sure enough, the skin was smooth and pink, sealed perfectly around the talon.

"I don't know how I'm gonna get this outta here, man."

"What do you mean? You get a knife and cut the fucker out. It's shoulder surgery, not brain surgery. Jesus, Sam, you get knocked upside the head back there?"

"Stitches are one thing. But this... it's weird, cutting you open myself."

"Don't be such a girl, dude. I'm good, go for it. Besides, I've just about finished this bottle and I'm really not looking forward to you doing this after it's empty."

Sam took a deep breath, doused the area with some rum before swigging some himself, and picked up the box cutter. "You're sure?"

"Goddmanit, Sam. What would we even tell a doctor went on here? Of course I'm sure, I don't want that in me forever!"

Sam started cutting, ignoring Dean's attempts at not actually howling at the pain. "Dean... it's not going so well."

"The hell do you mean, not going so well?" 

"It seems... like it's healing almost as fast as I'm cutting. I don't think I can get it out."

"I don't give a rat's ass what you think. Cut faster! You gotta get this out, Sam."

"Okay, but... just remember you told me that later, okay?"

"What the fuck ever, man. Do it."

Sam gave up any attempt at being gentle or using finesse and quickly hacked around the claw and then grabbed it and yanked. Dean gave an abortive scream and went limp, so Sam grabbed the box cutter again and went deeper into the muscle. He then braced his foot against the chair and pulled with all his might. A good 2 inches of talon slid messily out of Dean's shoulder as Sam overbalanced and fell back against the nearest bed. 

"Jesus..." Sam held the talon up to the light and took a good look at it. All told, the talon was over 6 inches long and wickedly sharp. Sam wiped it off and tucked it into his kit - you never knew when something could come in handy - then turned his attention to his brother. Sure enough, the wound seemed to be healing on its own, the bleeding already down to a slow trickle and although it looked ugly now, he was pretty sure it would heal okay. He taped some gauze over it, then manhandled Dean onto the nearest bed. After checking the dressing, he rolled Dean onto his side and tucked him in before dropping into his own bed and passing out before he even turned the lights off.

Sam woke up the next morning to blissful silence before remembering he had pulled a claw from some beast out of his brother the night before. He looked around, and Dean was nowhere to be seen. He was just about to panic when he found a note from Dean on his bedside table. 

"Dear Dr. Mom,  
Nice handiwork on the back, you butcher. Good thing chicks love scars. Where did you hide the claw? It was in me, I get dibs on it.   
Gone for coffee, if you want breakfast before we hit the bricks meet me over at the diner. Make sure to pack all your shit before you leave so we can make a getaway if Housekeeping comes in and sees this slaughterhouse before we get back.  
Get a move on bitch, we're burning daylight."

He sighed in relief before tucking the note in his wallet and pulling on his boots. Breakfast sounded pretty good right about then.


End file.
